Sleep Spaces, Spaces Sleep

This poem was most helpful to me in revealing the basis of surrealism.

1. Explicate a poem
Sleep Spaces by Robert Desnos
In the night there are of course the seven wondersof the world and the greatness tragedy and enchantment.Forests collide with legendary creatures hiding in thickets.There is you.In the night there are the walker's footsteps the murderer'sthe town policeman's light from the street lamp and the ragman's lanternThere is you.In the night trains go past and boatsand the fantasy of countries where it's daytime. The last breaths
of twilight and the first shivers of dawn.There is you.A piano tune, a shout.A door slams. A clock.And not only beings and things and physical sounds.But also me chasing myself or endlessly going beyond me.There is you the sacrifice, you that I'm waiting for.Sometimes at the moment of sleep strange figures are born and disappear.When I shut my eyes phosphorescent blooms appear and fadeand come to life again like fireworks made of flesh.I pass through strange lands with creatures for company.No doubt you are there, my beautiful discreet spy.And the palpable soul of the vast reaches.And perfumes of the sky and the stars the song of a roosterfrom 2000 years ago and piercing screams in a flaming park and kisses.Sinister handshakes in a sickly light and axles grinding on paralyzing roads.No doubt there is you who I do not know, who on the contrary I do know.But who, here in my dreams, demands to be felt without ever appearing.You who remain out of reach in reality and in dream.You who belong to me through my will to possess your illusionbut who brings your face near mine only if my eyes are closed in dream as well asin reality.You who in spite of an easy rhetoric where the waves die on the beachwhere crows fly into ruined factories, where the wood rotscrackling under a lead sun.You who are at the depths of my dreams stirring up a mindfull of metamorphose leaving me your glovewhen I kiss your hand.In the night there are stars and the shadowy motion of the sea,of rivers, forests, towns, grass and the lungsof millions and millions of beings.In the night there are the seven wonders of the world.In the night there are no guardian angels, but there is sleep.In the night there is you.In the daylight too.
The presenter in this poem speaks desperately of the happenings while sleeping that takes place in and out of the dream. He speaks of the limits and marvels that occur in dreams such as the same unexplained perplexity of the outside world around him as he rests. Robert helps in describing the unavoidable attachments one creates in the depths of love or even care. Even in the most enthralling dreams we carry the people that we love for on many different occasions these people that trap our minds are still inescapable in our dreams. The person or people that we love appear in relation to order and even sometimes death. Though we would never want to associate them with such thoughts, in our dreams they are undeniably related to any aspect of the dream.
We as humans often end up deceive ourselves into thinking that escaping the torment of what we love or in turn loathe, through sleeping and evading. It is unsurprising to carry these toxic, yet brilliant people and store them in bends of our brain. Unconsciously we would love to find a means of fleeing from them, however for twisted and luminous reasons, every human forfeits these run away routes to the inevitable passion. These delusions that we create and are told can be let go of, link to the core of our happiest moments in both certainty of the tangible world, and the realness of our most memorable imaginings. There are dreams where they show up, but it is not really them. They take the form of a different person and with their appearances changed, they become unreachable again. It is frightening to think of all the opportunities and curiosity the world can behold. It is even more terrifying to expose the boundaries that are so frequently guarded by the profundity of love and despair for another person.
In instances of complete chaos and lack of understanding, the mind still guiltily roams to what seems so diminutive in comparison to the rest of our lives. This guilty and maniac feeling creeps up even when there is utter contentment, for within these glad flashes there is that face. The complexity of this guest appearance marks the point of both our wrong and accepted behavior. Although we do not want to look as though we are infatuated, we are surely absorbed in the thought of completion. In all the greatness in the others surrounding us, and all the loyalty in those that we will soon take for granted, towards every stone wall and every steel plating, we still follow and chase. The cycle always fails to weaken.